


Five Things

by FrozenWings



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Murder, Introspection, Memories, One Shot, Other characters not mentioned in tags referenced, Post Season 2 Finale, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenWings/pseuds/FrozenWings
Summary: Ever since Carmen first heard the name 'Dexter Wolfe,' she couldn't keep from wondering: what was he like?Good thing she knows someone who can help.
Relationships: Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep & Dexter Wolfe, Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep & Shadowsan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 94





	Five Things

**Author's Note:**

> Written April 2020.
> 
> I really wanted to get this posted before the new season was released and (hopefully) supplied us with some more canon Dexter Wolfe content. Not too much in the way of plot here; just another simple idea I fell in love with and am sharing in the hopes that someone else was craving a moment like this as well. Enjoy!
> 
> Inspired by a scene in Kate DiCamillo's _Because of Winn-Dixie._ (though with five things instead of ten because my inspiration didn't stretch that far).

_Alright. Today’s the day. Today I’m going to do it._

The thought ran through Carmen’s head on a loop, helping to keep her focused, not because she was afraid that if she let her thoughts turn elsewhere she’d lose her nerve. Nope. She was not worried about that. After all, she was an infamous international master thief who routinely bested the most skilled agents of organizations so secret most people didn’t even know they existed. She was not one to be easily rattled, and certainly not by something as simple and mundane as asking a question.

The final two steps of the staircase were cleared with a graceful leap, and she hardly made a sound upon landing. Her lips curved in a self-satisfied smirk, pleased at her agility. Yup, she’s got this.

However, as she stood outside Shadowsan’s open door, staring at her old instructor’s back as he watched the sun set over the bay, all her earlier aplomb seemed to leech out through the soles of her shoes, leaving a hollow, doubt-filled woman standing on the threshold, heart hammering in her throat. Inexplicably, she found herself unable to move forward or even speak; a most unnerving and dangerous position.

 _Then again,_ she thought, brow creasing in consternation, _tomorrow’s just as good. Besides, we both have other matters to attend to. In fact, I should probably call Player and-_

“Come in, Carmen.”

Crud, why was she surprised? No matter how many times he sensed her presence without so much as turning his head a millimeter, or how close she came to perfecting the same ability (leading Zak and Ivy to question if there was something in the water back at VILE), it never failed to impress her.

Wordlessly, almost mechanically, she entered the room and took a seat alongside him, quickly reasoning that it would make her seem unduly suspicious if she just darted off with an obviously feigned excuse (lying to the world? Piece of cake; to her team? She may as well surrender now). He gave no further indication that he was aware of her presence, instead continuing to watch the brilliant, glowing red disc that was the sun slowly sink into a shining vermilion sea.

Despite her mental turmoil, Carmen couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over her, tense shoulders relaxing as she took in the beauty of the vista before her and the tranquil atmosphere of the room. Shadowsan’s room was perhaps one of her favorite places in the new headquarters. She couldn’t have said why; maybe it was the familiar scent of herbal tea that she remembered from her ignorantly-happy youth; maybe it was the sense of order and calm he seemed to exude, a stark contrast to her often chaotic, tumultuous life. Either way, she felt herself being lulled into a most welcome state of serenity, so much so that she almost forgot the reason she sought out Shadowsan in the first place.

“I presume something is on your mind.”

Almost.

Her eyes left the window for a split second to flicker over to the man next to her; he still hadn't moved, likely observing her from his periphery. Good thing she was used to his stoic, stealthy mannerisms, otherwise it’d be disturbing. She sighed, leaning back and supporting her weight on her hands. He was already on to her, of course (like lies, secrets were another impossibility on Team Red). Well, it was now or never.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Carmen clamped her eyes shut and, in a rush, asked the question that had been nagging at her mind for the past fortnight.

”What was my father like?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. When she finally opened her eyes, Shadowsan was staring at her, with such a look of surprise that, under other circumstances, Carmen would have had to swallow a laugh. But it was mixed with sorrow and something she guessed was regret, eliminating any humor from the visage.

They sat in pregnant silence for a minute, then two, staring unblinkingly at one another, illuminated solely by the slanting light of the quickly disappearing sun. Finally, Shadowsan spoke, rapidly shifting his gaze back to the window. 

“I am sorry, but I only knew him as a student knows his instructor. There is not much I can tell you.” 

His tone was filled with sadness and contrition, clearly acutely disturbed by his inability to help her come to know the man he had been sent to kill all those years ago, and she sidled the tiniest bit closer, lips cocked into a small, reassuring smile that, despite not turning his head, she _knew_ he could see.

“That’s enough.” Then, when he still failed to respond, she added, “Maybe you could just tell me five things? Surely you know five things. Unless...” The smile became a smirk, and her voice held a teasing note. “Your memory’s going.”

 _That_ got him to face her, and when he did his expression was stern but his eyes were bemused. “I assure you my memory’s fine. At the very least, I clearly remember a four-year-old Black Sheep tearing around the campus _completely unclothed_ because she did not want to take a bath.”

Carmen stared, cheeks slowly turning a shade to match her jacket, then she furiously started checking her earrings. 

“Please tell me the mic was off!” 

The uncommon sound of Shadowsan’s laughter filled the air, like rocks tumbling against one another, rough from disuse but still strong with typically suppressed emotion. Carmen tried to scowl at him and, to her credit, succeeded for all of five seconds before her façade cracked and she joined in. Once they sobered, the quiet returned. Then: 

“He looked like you.” 

Carmen turned to him, eyes wide, having thought the topic abandoned. She didn’t know why, but she found herself holding her breath, as though that small disturbance of air would cause the spell to break, the moment to end. 

“Tall. The same tanned skin, the same gray eyes, and when he was pleased with himself, which was often, he would have the same cocksure smirk I’ve seen many times on your face. But,” he paused and turned to meet the stunned gray irises next to him, “you should be glad to hear you don’t have his hair. It was starting to thin during my time as a student, and woe to the person who drew attention to it.”

Shadowsan's eyes sparkled at the amusing memory, and Carmen came out of her stupor enough to give a small chuckle; the image of an esteemed VILE faculty member, her father, giving grief to any student who would dare to take a swipe at his appearance was endlessly amusing. 

And she looked like him. She studied her reflection in the glass, rendered mirror-like by the rapidly advancing dark, with a new interest, trying to picture the man who she apparently so resembled. It was hard; she wasn't imaginative in that way, having an easier time devising plans and dismantling schemes than envisioning things that weren't there. Slowly, though, an image began to take shape. It wasn't crystal clear, more like a blurry photograph taken with an unsteady hand than something out of National Geographic, but that, coupled with the knowledge that she _looked like him_ , was enough to stoke a warm, purring feeling in her chest.

“He enjoyed the finer things in life,” Shadowsan continued, bringing Carmen’s thoughts back. “His classroom was opulent, covered in gold and finery, but never garish or gaudy, with many of his most valuable trophies displayed along the walls, as though he were daring his students to try and steal them."

"Did they?" Carmen interrupted, forgetting Countess Cleo's years of etiquette classes for the moment.

A wry smile cracked Shadowsan's lips. "Not more than once." He chuckled to himself at an old, private memory, before resuming item number two. "The Wolf had more tuxedos and clothing articles than any other man on the island, and his wardrobe was rivaled only by Countess Cleo’s. And he enjoyed fine food and wine to go along with his fine clothes and often looked down on, as he put it, ‘common fare.’ His and Coach Brunt's ongoing feud about whether or not Texas Pit Beef counted as a delicacy was the bane of the rest of the faculty.” 

Carmen laughed outright at that, remembering quite well how sacred Coach Brunt held all things Texas; she could easily envision her wrath at someone lobbing a disparaging appellation at her favorite barbeque. Actually, Wolf’s undoubtedly high-class tastes also reminded her of herself in the way she not-so-secretly enjoyed the gourmet hors d'oveures served at the high class charity galas she attended (yes, even the ones with caviar); the large walk-in closet Zak had constructed in her room, filled with countless evening gowns, coats, and more, all designer, all expensive (bought with VILE’s dollars, of course), came to mind as well. Like father, like daughter, she supposed.

“A third thing,” Shadowsan continued, brow creasing as he thought deeply, “was that he was one of the best pickpockets I’ve seen. No one at VILE was better at stealth, not even I. He could slip in and out of a room and you would not know it until you realized your wallet was missing. Some of my more gossipy classmates passed around the rumor that he had trained his shadow to steal for him, and one time, on a dare, one particularly foolish boy asked him to his face. The Wolf just gave a cryptic smile, handed the pupil back his ID badge, and started the day’s lesson. It wouldn’t surprise me if that rumor was actually true.”

Carmen’s right pocket seemed to burn from the wrapped peppermint candy stashed inside, swiped from Ivy three mornings ago when the latter had asked for some stealth tips (‘for prank purposes only’ she had assured her). Carmen had mentioned a few basics and was now waiting to see if ‘awareness of your surroundings and person’ had fully sunk in (the twins weren’t the only ones here who liked to pull pranks). 

She wondered if her father would have been impressed by her skills and found herself wishing she could try and match wits with him. Carmen shut her eyes and tried to imagine the blurry face that looked like her beaming with pride as she swiped a dollar bill from his pocket or pulled a bait and switch without him so much as feeling the whisper of air stirred by her nimble fingers, and though the resultant visage was as wavering and faint as expected, it was enough to fan and feed the sensation that had crackled to life earlier.

"Fourth:” Shadowsan glanced over at Carmen and hesitated, as though debating whether or not he should divulge this next trait of Wolf’s, and when he spoke next his tone was somber. “Fourth: he was ruthless as a thief.”

Carmen felt her blood turn to ice at his words, and she gave a small shiver at the chill in her veins. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop, to thank him for what he told her and leave, to be content with only those stories that were innocent and admirable, but a larger part demanded she stay. She wanted to know the truth about her parents, the whole truth, and if that truth was ugly or hard to face, so be it. Hence she sat, rooted to the spot, hanging on every one of Shadowsan’s words.

“He was known for always delivering, and that was a reputation he was determined to keep. Once, I was granted the honor of joining him on a caper. Even though the Wolf was notorious for working alone, this was a two-man job and, seeing how I was the best in my class, he selected me to be his partner ‘just this once.’ I had never before seen such a master thief at work and was awed by his skill and self-assuredness; in his eyes, the mission was already successfully completed before it even begun.”

He paused to sigh deeply, and his next words were somber. “I learned a great deal that day, including what was needed to make faculty.”

That was it. That was all he needed to say, and she knew: her father was a killer. 

_You’re smart enough to have guessed that,_ a voice in the back of her head chastised. _Everyone knows you have to do it to make faculty_. She clenched her hands into fists as they rested on the floor behind her, trying to hide their shaking. Though she knew the voice was right, a childish, desperate part of her had hoped beyond hope that his requisite murder was a ruse, just as Shadowsan’s was. But a wolf must hunt, and to hunt one must be willing to spill blood, and in that way she would never be like him, nor did she want to. 

But what if, somewhere deep down, locked away and hidden even to her, she was?

For the second time that evening her thoughts turned back to Poitiers, to the warehouse where VILE had very nearly won. She recalled Coach Brunt's alarmed face as Carmen, gray eyes turned to unyielding steel, dug cold metal prongs into her side and sent waves of crackling electricity coursing through her thick, hardened muscles. She had only sought to stun; that was all that would be needed to save herself and her own personal Captain Ahab lying motionless on the floor. But what if, had her desperate attempt succeeded and the hulking body thudded heavily to the ground, she had found her finger unable to lift from the deadly trigger? She had kept going, not stopping until she had followed in her father's footsteps in a second way? She was his daughter after all; wouldn't it only make sense that she-

“You’re not.” 

Shadowsan’s voice startled her out of her swirling thoughts, and she looked over, trying and failing to not let on her surprise at his apparent mind-reading abilities.

“But what if-“

“You’re not,” he repeated, firm and forceful and emphatic. She opened her mouth to speak, an unwilling protestation on her tongue, but he beat her to it. “Do you want to be?” 

“Well, no,” she responded thoughtfully, then, with surety and conviction, “No.” 

Shadowsan fixed her with a determined stare, as though he could convince her to believe her words by willpower alone. “Then you won’t be. He made a conscious choice to be that way, just like you have done to not. Believe me when I say that while you are like him in many ways, _that_ is not one of them.”

Carmen exhaled, sending the rampaging thoughts of what she would never be to fly out and away, and let a thankful smile curl her lips, no matter he couldn't see it. The room was nearly completely dark now, lit only by the tentative finger of light streaming in through the open door from the hall, the glow from the streetlights down below not reaching the upper stories of her warehouse. She could just make out her old instructor’s outline in the shadows, features rendered invisible in the black, and even though her eyes were blind to it, she heard the smile that crept into his voice when he spoke next. 

“Last of all, and perhaps most importantly, he was willing to leave everything behind to start a new, peaceful life with you, no matter the risk to him. He had the courage to leave, something I’ve only ever seen displayed by one other.” He didn’t need to say who that person was.

At that, Shadowsan seemed to have run out of words, and Carmen didn’t mind; this was more than enough new information to satisfy her for the time being. She remained seated, though, enjoying the companionable silence, repeating everything he had said about her father over and over in her head until it was permanently etched into her consciousness. 

Courageous, cocky, vain, clever, determined, capable of that most evil act but also of that most noble one; a remarkable man, albeit an imperfect one. Shadowsan, judging by the reverence that colored his words, clearly held him in esteem, and in a way she did as well. True, they differed in several notable ways, and maybe she'd never fully forgive him for having truthfully earned his seat at the faculty table, but he had been willing to risk the fatal wrath of VILE for her, and for that she would always be grateful. 

“Thanks,” Carmen said into the dark, and she felt more than saw Shadowsan’s nod of acknowledgement before he replied, “You really are like him in all the best ways.”

Suddenly, a pair of voices with thick Boston accents floated up the steps and through the doorway. 

“Zak, did you eat that hard candy I was savin' ?”

“What? The peppermint? Sis, you know I can hardly stand that stuff. Why on earth would I take it, especially when we have a full bag of M & M's on the counter? Hey, speakin' of, did you know they stopped makin' red ones?” (they didn't, but Carmen wasn't going to say anything)

“Focus, Zak! Who else would? One day it was in my pocket and the next it wasn’t!”

“Maybe you ate it and forgot?”

“Yeah, right! Next thing you’re gonna be saying I was pickpocketed. Hey, wait a minute...” 

Shadowsan and Carmen faced each other, wearing expressions of confusion and mischievous jocundity, respectively. 

“Do I want to know?” he asked, to which she responded simply, “Nope.” 

The blur of red, tan, and black that was Carmen Sandiego was out the door before Ivy’s irate “CARMEN!” filled the warehouse. Shadowsan bemusedly watched her shadow retreat down the hall, and a content expression softened his stony features. 

_Six: He was an incorrigible mischief-maker._

**Author's Note:**

> Because at the end of the day, Carmen is still only about twenty-ish and deserves to have some fun.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> EDIT 10/12/2020: WOW! I can’t believe this fic has gotten 300 hits and 45 kudos in less than a month! I truly didn’t anticipate such a warm reception. Thank you all so, _so_ much! I am honored that you found this little story to be worth your while.


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